


they were never just two, even if they’d forgotten it

by edgaristheoneinthehole



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2588480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgaristheoneinthehole/pseuds/edgaristheoneinthehole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes AI had an unnerving ability to force their emotions on their hosts. Washington just so happened to get the absolute worst of it.</p><p>epsilon-never-removed au in which epsilon messes up wash more than you can imagine</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the fall

York and Wyoming were literally the worst (compolsionary) training partners, Wash thought. Wyoming leaned towards stealth and surprise attacks and didn’t even try attacking once he got out of long-range of Wash, just retreated, and York, while pretty good at mid- to short-range, came short without the back-up from another teammate that Wyoming couldn’t offer (though his shots were precise as hell once he could use his sniper rifle so Wash had to keep within a certain distance of him at all times). Especially so when he started to get frustrated at Wash for keeping Wyoming in his sights at all times.

Basically, the whole thing was pointless and Wash didn’t understand why Delta hadn’t objected the moment they even suggested such a team.

South and York would have been a better option, Wash mused, glancing back at where he assumed Wyoming was but found the man gone. He cursed, ducking a fist aimed at him and getting more distance between York and himself, glancing around frantically, trying to find the stealth expert. The moment Wyoming got the drop on him, the match was over, of that Wash was certain. Wyoming wasn’t the best fighter but he sure as hell fought dirty and wasn’t to be underestimated when he had time for traps.

York came at him again, probably having decided that a more aggressive offensive was smarter now that Wash was distracted and panicking, and Wash swore, dodging again, getting more distance between them didn’t appear to be working and Wash just  _ knew  _ that York was slowly moving him towards Wyoming’s ambush point.

“ Yeah _ , don’t mean to worry you,”  _ Epsilon paused, for the first time speaking during the battle and Wash vaguely remembered a conversation on sorting through Wash’s memories of Freelancer, trying to find a weak point,  “ _ okay, I am, but, _ anyway _ , Wyoming is just sitting, like, ten feet behind you? Guessing that’s a trap.” _

Wash swore and a thought of how  _ he knew it  _ passed his mind but he just leaned most of his weight on his left leg, an awful tactic but one that distracted York long enough to slip away (Wash wondered for a second if it was Delta’s calculations running in his mind that did that or if it was York’s own confusion), getting some distance between himself and Wyoming (he was the _ sniper _ , that wasn’t a smart idea either but what other choice did he have?). 

York sighed from where Wash had once stood, “It’s just not fun when you have an AI too, Wash.”

Wash relaxed, guessing that the session was over (correctly, he thought, as Wyoming walked out of his hiding place behind a half-wall), and frowned, crossing his hands, trying to act as offended as he could, “Glad to know-”  _ why didn’t you  _ tell me _ , how dare they, Tex didn’t, those fucking  _ assholes, “oh.”

In the background he could hear York repeat the “oh” worriedly, moving in Wash’s direction (York always _ did  _ have really loud steps when worried, like he forgot for a second that he had to be a infiltration expert), but Wash couldn’t really  _ focus _ on anything but the sudden rage that seemed to originate from the back of his head. Epsilon’s implant. There was a stream of  _ kill, murder, anger, hurt, Tex, blood, they used real-, how  _ dare _ they?  _ running around in his head (though it felt like it was slowly streaming into his bloodstream), his hands couldn’t stop shaking and he registered a vague feeling of his knees hitting the ground, the loud  _ clank  _ his armour made. Hands gently forced away the death grip he had on… something.

“Wash, buddy, you okay?” York's voice filtered into his consciousness again, a whisper amongst the loudness of Epsilon’s mutterings, “do I need to bring Carolina here? Or, uh, a doctor? You look like you need a doctor.”

_ Wash paused and looked at Carolina, concerned, “This isn’t safe. They’re going to get hurt.” _

“ _Agent Texas or Maine, Wyoming and York?” Wash knew that she expected him to answer with the latter so he just kept his mouth shut. Better to not anger his superior._

_ She (correctly) assumed his answer from his lack of one and he could  _ hear  _ her frown and disapprovement when she answered, “Give them a chance, they’re tough.” _

Wash blinked and realised that he had stood at some point, wobbling on his feet, though he didn’t remember doing such a thing. Epsilon kept altering between whispering and yelling and Wash couldn’t focus on anything but how warm his body felt, like the red hot  anger  _ had _ slipped into his bloodstream and it was making him dizzy.

“ Are you better now, mate?” Wyoming asked, much more far away than York was, and for a second Wash thought he was concerned, but then he remembered it was  _ Wyoming _ . Wyoming, who was the cruelest of them all, Wyoming who said insincere sorrys for killing people, uncaring of the pain he had caused. Wyoming didn’t  _ do _ concerned or caring (a part of Wash that didn’t  _ feel  _ like Wash thought, _ but, hey, he tells jokes and kept you company on the days you couldn't sleep because of nightmares, he isn’t that bad  _ but the  _ Washington  _ part of him squashed it).

Which only made Epsilon’s anger double, yelling  _ he was the reason they hurt Tex _ and Wash, for the first time, understood why Epsilon was so angry. While searching through Wash’s memories, he must have found that first training session that Tex had had.

(Some part of Wash realised that  _ then _ was the time he had to snap out of his rage and calm Epsilon down but he honestly  _ couldn’t _ , the rage flowing in his bloodstream made everything burn and Epsilon’s anger was  _ his _ anger and he was still  _ so dizzy _ -)

Epsilon offered a quiet apology amongst his hysteria for overwhelming Wash with his anger but Wash couldn’t even distinguish if it was an empty one or not. Everything felt too warm, he couldn’t tell what were Epsilon’s thoughts and what were his own and the moment York walked a step closer to him (having backed off when Wash had stood up maybe?), Wash was going to shoot him (there was a weakness in York’s armour that no one else had, a small chip that he had been probably too lazy to fix but offered a great target to an organ, which one, Wash didn’t know, he just knew shooting it would mean death soon enough). If Wyoming did, Wash would strangle him (York hadn’t been at fault like Wyoming was but he was  _ involved  _ and that was enough).

“ Wash?” York repeated again and Wash blinked, jumping away at the unexpected closeness, he knew he’d  _ been there _ , but he was  _ close _ , and reaching for his gun-

_ That wasn’t there. _

Wash thought he might have whimpered, though he also might have growled, but he  _ was _ certain that his neck snapped up, keeping a close eye on both of his opponents, and that he found himself in a fighting stance. Epsilon’s mutterings quieted but hurried at the action, still upset but also running strategies through his head.

“Whoa, tiger,” York raised his hands, palms turned in Wash’s direction, and he seemed almost panicked, “what’s wrong?” 

Wyoming wasn’t naive enough to give up and instead of making a peace gesture, walked back a few more steps and palmed his gun ( _ He won’t be able to use his sniper rifle at this range no matter how many steps he walks back, he won’t do hand-to-hand with his pistol empty, _ Epsilon whispered before he started yelling about  _ Tex _ and  _ they wanted to kill her _ once again). Wash had to give him points for being the same conniving, intelligent stealth expert he always had been.

“ Epsilon,” Wash forced out, trying to not make his voice break from just the pure  _ emotions  _ running through his head, his bloodstream, “give me a reason in two seconds.”

Epsilon didn’t,  _ couldn't _ , materialise. Didn’t answer either but his strategy planning picked up so Wash had a feeling Epsilon answered in his own way.

“A reason?” York asked nervously, glancing at Wyoming and frowning, most likely disapproving of his lack of a peaceful stance.

Wyoming answered just as easily as he always did, voice casual but his glancing at the ammo table and his death-grip on his pistol betrayed him, “To not kill us.”

“I seriously doubt-” York was cut off when Wash lunged at him, using the distraction that Wyoming had caused (on purpose, Wash thought as Wyoming snuck off towards the ammo). York cursed but blocked without a problem.

Really, York was good at hand-to-hand, he just let his frustration get the best of him after a long time and tended to hold back when Wash was involved, still thinking of him as the rookie (which, to be honest, Wash  _ was _ , he was the rookie and didn’t have a specialization as the others did, by all accounts he should be worse than them all. In many things he  _ was _ , but  _ no one _ , not even Maine, could beat him in endurance).

Wash moved to the side as Wyoming shot from a distance but wasn’t fast enough, not with York in such close proximity with him. York breathed out a quiet utter of Wash’s name as he saw the blood but, otherwise, didn’t react and they continued trading blows, though Epsilon paid more attention to Wyoming from then on.

“ _ Let me?"  _ Epsilon asked amongst the calculations running in their head, the quiet yelling for blood and the mutterings of Epsilon’s other personalities.

Wash let himself fall.

 

* * *

 

York really hated fighting against Wash, not only did he feel guilty hurting the kid but, since getting his AI, he had an awful habit of just changing his fighting style in the midst of a battle. His usual one was quite simple to follow really, basic military with a lot more  _ force  _ behind it, the guy just did not pull his punches at all.

Sometimes though, like right now, he slipped into other ones. His current one was a bitch to follow, with unpredictable movements and even  _ more _ strength in his attacks, ruthless, didn’t pause for a second and forced his opponent (in this case, York) to go on defence and tired them out. Wash had once called the style  _ Omega _ , whatever that meant.

Wash switched again, Delta kept whirring and making more calculations and York moved accordingly, understood this one more than the rest, saw Delta’s mind in it, all logic, balance and calculated force.

When Wyoming shot again, Wash switched, ducking faster than York had seen the guy move  _ ever  _ (and he’d seen the guy run from a very pissed off South, having stolen her  _ last _ popcorn package the week before), his style more smooth than it had ever been. Smooth, fast and with precise strikes.

York wished he had the luxury of retreating but he didn’t have a gun and he couldn't get to them fast enough, especially couldn’t shoot fast enough if he did,  _ wasn’t even certain if he could shoot the kid _ , Wyoming had used his opportunity and York hoped that he wasn’t using real bullets (didn’t believe it for a  _ second, Wash had bled after all, hadn’t he?, _ but he could hope).

 

* * *

 

Wash didn’t remember dealing with York but as he stared at the body on the floor, he wondered if he’d care if York was dead or not later, when he could think clearly and his own thoughts. Probably (once again he thought that South would have been a much better match with York against him, either that or Maine and Wyoming, York and Wyoming didn’t cover each other’s weaknesses the same way the other pairs did). But, with revenge flowing in his veins, he honestly just didn’t care and he turned away to search for Wyoming.

Wyoming didn’t cower, Wyoming didn’t even  _ hide,  _ he just stared. Somewhere in the back of his head Wash realised Wyoming was trying to manipulate him ( _ Remember who you are, Simba,  _ Epsilon joked and Wash smiled) but he didn’t focus on that, instead just getting close enough to grab the Brit’s (Australian’s?) head and smashing it against a wall. As he watched the other Freelancer slide down, he thought he heard a noise from the other side of the room but, after assuming it was just York slowly dying, just ignored it.

“You know,” Wash spoke (except he wasn’t so certain it was him anymore, it felt like he wasn’t speaking, it might have been Epsilon or Delta or Omega or Theta or Beta or-), stepping on Wyoming’s throat with his left foot, “revenge is the sweetest thing ever, isn’t it?”

Was he ( _ they _ ? yeah, yeah, Wash thought it was they, Epsilon couldn't survive without Wash, just like Wash couldn't survive without Epsilon, they were one being) even talking to Wyoming anymore?

“ Washington!” an enraged voice yelled and next thing Wash knew, they were pulled far, far away from Wyoming (who was coughing up a storm and not dead then) and a flash of teal made them freeze and a part of them thought  _ boss  _ while another thought  _ daughter.  _ They weren’t certain which part was the  _ Washington  _ part anymore. Were they even supposed to be Washington or Epsilon anymore?

Omega laughed.


	2. the phoenix is not them

The Director, as Carolina had _known_ he would, didn’t find much care for the injuries Wyoming and York sustained. What _he_ cared about, was that Washington had caused them, the strength his AI had lent him. In fact, he didn’t even seem to _realise_ that he almost killed one of his team members and incapacitated another until South had said so, loudly, “Yeah, the power’s peachy and all and we all love AI _so dearly,_ but that kid totally fucking snapped and is a danger.”

North sighed, but didn’t correct or apologise for her. South might have said it harshly (in true South fashion) but, well, it was true. Wash _had_ knocked out York (no severe injuries there, just bruises and shallow cuts) and he did nearly kill Wyoming, who got the worst of it: choking, head trauma, bruises, internal bleeding.

He wasn’t lucky to be alive, as Carolina had gotten there after York’s call as soon as she could ( _not soon enough_ ), but a little more time and he could have been on the edge of death. A little more _after that_ and Carolina would have lost a member of her team for the first time since she dominated the leaderboard (sometimes it was odd to think about how Georgia, good old Georgia, had been on top, how she’d once had to look up to him as a superior and how _now_ he was just a memory, a story that people told to the younger recruits to scare them).

The Director, after a moment of consideration, agreed that Washington should do _tests_ to make certain that the “incident” (the way he said it made South glower and for a moment Carolina wondered if she worried for her own safety of her brother’s, should Wash act up again, but she then decided it didn’t matter) wouldn’t happen again. He then said, turning around and walking away, “You might want to keep Agent Maine away from our ill-tempered Agent. I suggest Agent Carolina speak with him as soon as she’s _able_.”

The way he said it, the way he implied that she _didn’t do everything in her power_ to make certain her team was safe or happy created a spike of annoyance within her but she couldn’t focus on that, she had to visit Wyoming and York in the med-bay and, afterwards, speak with Washington and _get some damn answers_.

 

* * *

 

“Carolina!” York called out, surprised, when she entered the med-may, sitting on the edge of his bed. Wyoming either didn’t acknowledge her or just wasn’t conscious. Carolina wouldn’t blame him for either.

“How’re you?” she couldn’t stop from asking, itching to know that at least she didn’t fail her team _completely_ (except York’s health didn’t happen because she stopped it, it was because Wash did)

York shrugged. “I’ve had worse,” he gestured to his blind eye, “a few bruises, nothing bad. The kid packs a punch, always has, but I wasn’t really the one he was mad at.”

“He was mad at Wyoming?” Carolina asked, glancing at the badly-beat up Freelancer again. She could see it but _why_?

“No, like,” York paused, thinking, “I guess, it wasn’t really either of us he was mad at? He was _really_ out of it, Carolina, I don’t think he really even understood that Wyoming and I were the people he was fighting against. For a time he could but then it just... changed. He was lost in memories, is my guess.”

“Memories?”

“Yeah, he could fight me just fine but sometimes he’d lean to a side, dodging an attack that wasn’t there. I got no other explanation for it and good ol’ Reggie won’t be speaking for a while.”

“Be honest, how bad do you think he is?” Carolina sighed, moving a few steps closer to the bad that housed the subject of their discussion.

“Well, really, he’ll be fine. He’s a resistant one. But...” York trailed off, moving his gaze in the direction Carolina was _certain_ Washington was kept in.

“Yeah,” Carolina frowned, “getting him back into team dynamics might be hard.”

York sighed and didn’t speak until she was right at the door of the med-bay. “Just don’t be too harsh with the kid. Throw in some Carolina charm.”

“I thought the Carolina charm was to beat them up?” she smiled, leaving the room to the sound of his laughter.

 

* * *

 

Washington had been locked up in his own quarters and he didn’t even blink at the door opening, quietly reading a book. It took Carolina two seconds to realise that he was tense and that his eyes weren’t moving, not the best casual acting she’d ever seen (not even average, really), but, she had to give him props for still trying when it was obvious that his AI was still doing an number on him, from the shaking fingers to the state of his room (it didn’t look much different but Carolina _knew_ Washington, even if not very well, the guy was a perfectionist to the _core_ , the books on the floor could have only have gotten there from throwing and the pencils around the room hinted that he threw those as well).

“Could Epsilon materialise for a second?” she asked and Washington frowned and shook his head, “why is that?”

“Loud,” he decided after a second.

“He’s yelling?” Carolina questioned, concerned. AI were supposed to be shut down in that scenario, something that Washington had clearly not done (and so Carolina wondered, how long had she missed that? How long had he been dealing with his AI’s anger? No wonder he just lost control).

“He’s usually not like this. Epsilon rarely acts up.”

“He’s known for yelling at the Counselor multiple times and calling him an ‘asshole with a stick up his ass’,” she helpfully pointed out.

“I said ‘acting up’ not ‘being a dick because he can get away with it’.” Carolina laughed.

She sobered up though, as she watched the book in his hands close with a loud _bang_ and Wash’s hands didn’t stop shaking. He ignored them, focusing on her so she decided to not bring it up.

“When will Epsilon be okay?”

Washington pondered on that question for a while, absent-mindedly staring at her shoulder, right where plate met the soft armour below, before he answered, “Fit for duty in two minutes.”

“And mentally?”

Washington didn’t even hesitate, “Three years with no added stress.”

“Did Epsilon calculate that or are you saying it because you think so?”

“Both,” he didn’t elaborate.

“Washington,” she sighed, “what _happened_? Why did you attack Yo- your teammates?”

Washington didn't answer for a long enough time that Carolina started debating just using the _Carolina charm_ on him, “Epsilon didn’t like what he saw in one of my memories.”

“ _He was_ really _out of it, Carolina, I don’t think he really even understood that Wyoming and I were the people he was fighting against. For a time he could but then it just... changed. He was lost in memories, is my guess.”_

“What did they see?”

“A training session.”

“ _You might want to keep Agent Maine away from our ill-tempered Agent.”_

“Wyoming, York and Maine were there. Along with Agent Texas?”

“He got mad at Wyoming, Maine and York.”

“And you?”

“I feel everything he does,” Washington shrugged and after that started evading questions.

 

* * *

 

Epsilon didn’t start materializing until a few weeks into Wash’s “trustworthiness testing”. Nothing had changed much, honestly, Epsilon was the _ever so lovely and kind_ AI he ever was, though he appeared to be more protective of his “host”. Why he preferred that name, as though he was a parasite, Carolina wouldn't know (at least not for years).

A few days after Epsilon appeared, Wash was cleared for duty. Carolina couldn't help but think it was not due to the “testing” being over but the Director just wanting to test out his new “experiment”.

Carolina hated him (and yet she didn’t).


End file.
